For a moment Buffy was almost scared. The rage in Angel’s eyes was unlike anything she’d ever seen and the grip he had on her arms…she was sure he was going to rip her in two.
“I--”
“There’s something between you and Spike?” he growled again. “He’s in love with you…are you in love with him? Are you, Buffy? Is that it?”
“Let me go!” she snapped through gritted teeth, kicking out at him and sending them both backward in opposite directions. When she caught herself and was stable on her feet she threw him a look of contempt as she rubbed her arms. “What is wrong with you?”
“Just tell me,” he snarled from a few feet away, breathing heavily.
She was caught, there was no way around it. She wouldn’t lie to him, they had too much history, too many feelings between them, past and present, that she could do that. He deserved the truth. “No. I’m not in love with him.”
He clearly hadn’t been expecting that answer. “You’re not.”
Buffy shook her head. “No, I’m not. I never was.”
They stared at each other, their hearts tightening in their chests.
She didn’t want to say what she knew she had to, didn’t want to see the look on his face when she admitted what she’d become in his absence. She didn’t want to admit it out loud to yet another person and feel that heart-wrenching shame again. But she had to.
Taking a breath, she spoke the words. “But we were involved with each other.”
Something inside him broke. He felt the pieces shatter and crumble in his chest and it was all he could do to not scream at her, to hurl the concrete bench across the patio in fury. “What do you mean?” he choked out instead.
She swallowed, eyes downcast. “Spike and I were…we were lovers, Angel. For a while. We’re not any more. It’s been over for a long time.”
A moment passed, then another and all she could hear were the angry breaths coming from his nostrils as he struggled with this information.
“I—yes, I deliberately didn’t tell you. But it’s my business, not yours.”
“It’s come that far, then…that you’re no longer my business.”
She sighed. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. How could you let him, Buffy? How could you let him touch you that way? To see you, to be with you?”
“I—I don’t know, Angel. It happened.”
Hurt flooded his heart. His love, his perfect mate, defiled herself with the likes of Spike. “It’s disgusting,” he concluded, his voice low.
Her head shot up, eyes narrowed. “Who are you to judge me? What gives you the right?”
“Because it’s you!” he roared. “Because no matter how much time has passed or what may have happened, I will always be involved in your life, I will always be concerned when it comes to you! Do you know how it feels to stand here, in my mind having only loved you a mere few months ago, really loved you, to have had your body joined with mine, to hear you telling me how much you loved me, and to have let you go, only to find out that this, this, is what I let you go off to become?”
“Excuse me?” she snapped, eyes flashing. “You let me go off to become something? From the way I remember it, Angel, you left me, not the other way around. And yeah, I know exactly how it feels to find out that the person you loved has been with your worst enemy. That’s exactly how it feels to know that you slept with Darla, that you tried to lose your soul in her. Well, that’s how it was with Spike! I hated myself back then. I hate myself now! I got brought back to life, against my will, and it was the most horrible experience I’ve ever gone through, save shoving a sword through your gut and watching you die by my own hand! I used him, I let him use me, because I wanted to. I couldn’t lose my soul in him, but damn it, I tried.” Tears were rolling down her face and she didn’t stop to wipe them away as he gaped at her. “I tried.”
She stared at him a moment longer, watching his face contort from one emotion to another. When his chiseled features settled on hurt saddness she turned from him abruptly. “I don’t have to justify myself to you anymore. I’m going to go find Lorne and Wesley. We’re doing this spell, getting your memory back. You’ll see then," she insisted, unsure who she was trying to convince at this point. "It’ll be easier when you can remember how it is between us now. It won’t seem so complicated anymore.” She was still openly crying and he took a tentative step toward her until he could reach out and touch her. Sensing he was behind her she turned and raised those red, puffy eyes to his, sharing in the hurt of their revelations.
“I can’t,” she cried feebly putting a hand to his chest and weakly pushing him away. “Don’t…please.”
He ignored her and enveloped her in his arms. As her own arms came up and around him, she sobbed.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, a lump forming in his throat. “I’m sorry.”
Grief and frustration wracked her body as she held him and shook, letting it all out. He brought a hand up and stroked her long blonde hair, kissing the top of her head. “Buffy…”
“No…” she whispered. “Just...”
He was helpless to do anything but hold her, standing on the patio, rocking her until her sniffles lessened and her breath came more easily.
She pushed back from him gently, unable to meet his eyes, and took a step toward the door. “I’ll figure out how to rescue Spike on my own. Not because he was once my lover, because he’s a soul. He deserves a chance,” she said, and her repetition of his words from earlier wasn’t lost on him. “And then I’ll leave.”
"I won't leave you alone in this," he vowed.
She looked back at him and gave him a sad smile. “It’ll be easier when you have your memory. Then you’ll know, what it’s like now. How it’s different between us. It won’t hurt as much, I guess.”
Because you won’t love me, then.
The thought hung in the air between them.
“And don’t worry about Faith,” she continued when he didn’t say anything. “It’s weird with her here. Before we got her out I was thinking about her, I was worried. I don’t want her to die. I did once. But things change. She ‘fessed up, served some time. I saved her because I couldn’t knowingly let her be killed. She didn’t deserve to die that way, locked up and defenseless.” Eyes downcast, Buffy shifted her feet restlessly. “She was working toward redemption, doing it via the laws of man rather than doled out punishments by the Council. She’s still a Slayer.”
Angel’s heart broke as he stood there, denying himself what he wanted, forcing himself to remain put and not to grab her into his arms and kiss her senseless, stopping himself from telling her the words of love that were practically choking him. “She wants to help,” he whispered instead. “But she can’t do it with everyone waiting for her to screw up and yelling at her when she asks questions about events that happened while she was away.”
Buffy nodded sagely. “I know.”
She was so close he could smell her shampoo, could practically taste the tears that still stained her cheeks. Forgetting himself he reached up and traced his thumb over one of the silvery trails on her face. “Buffy,” he said gruffly, eyes on her lips.
It would be so easy, she thought. Just to move in, to take from him…to let him take from her.
“No,” she murmured, placing a hand on his chest and feeling her heart lurch. “It’s not real…What you’re feeling, it’s not real.”
With a desperate sob she turn and ran inside, wondering if the same words could be said about her own emotions.
He watched her go and when the scent of her fell from the air he closed his eyes and took a breath, mustering some sort of strength to push him back inside the hotel. Collapsing onto the closest bench he leaned forward, burying his face in his hands.
God, you’re an idiot. A complete moron. You deserved everything she said. It’s not real. None of it. It’s a damned spell.
But it had been real once.
She’d been with Spike. So what? He’d been with Darla. He’d created a child from that little tryst. So Buffy’d turned to one of his most hated enemies. She was feeling lonely, lost. She’d just been brought back from the dead, he of all people knew how confusing that could be. And how dejected must he have been feeling if it had pushed him into Darla’s arms? It had to have been bad, maybe the lowest he’d ever been if it had driven him to that, to her.
Somehow all of this reasoning wasn’t making him feel better. Buffy had still given herself to Spike.
He remembered finding out from Spike about the college boy, the one-night stand Buffy had cheapened herself with. He’d learned from Faith about Riley Finn, how that had stabbed him right in the heart…especially knowing that in another reality, only weeks before, Buffy had been with him, in love and ready to begin anew…together.
You ended that, though. You made the choice to turn back the day, to let her have a chance at life.
But she hadn’t lived. She’d died a year later. He hadn’t been there to help her, to protect her, he hadn’t even known until it was too late. In the meantime he’d been here, skimping on his so-called mission, sleeping with his sire, producing a child, and… forging a relationship with Cordelia.
He really was no better than Buffy.
And he didn’t care. A fresh wave of jealous anger surged through him.
“Afternoon mantras usually work better with some jasmine candles and a little Ox leaf,” Lorne said from the doorway. He sauntered out onto the porch and took a closer look at Angel as the vampire looked up, seething. “Woah…wanna aim that death ray towards another metropolis, my friend?”
“Go away,” Angel grumbled.
Lorne gave him a quick smile. “Yeah. Thought so. Your better half is in there sending off waves about the same size as yours. Only hers are centered more on confusion and heartache than blinding rage.” Despite all better instinct he took a seat across from Angel. “I’m guessing you two had a tiff.”
“I don’t want to talk about this. I want to be alone.”
“Uh huh…so you had a fight, you said some things, she said some things… Boy, this old you is fun to look into.” Lorne’s red eyes sparkled. “Who knew you ever had this much emotion in you? I’m getting mad love, blind passion, and a big ole’ chunk of seething hatred. Well, that part I knew existed. But the rest is all making its first appearance in your big ole man-sized heart, Angelpie. I should have asked you about this past love a long time ago. Better than a soap opera. And some of them are down-right hokey.”
“It’s not real.”
“What you’re feeling? Sure it is! I mean, it was once, who’s to say it couldn’t be again?”
“It’s because of the spell.”
“Think so? Feels pretty genuine to me. Feels pretty bonafide in her, too.” Angel’s eyes ticked to Lorne’s, questioning. “Oh, yeah…I talked to her. She practically ran me down rushing out away from you, and I’ll tell you--For a pint-sized beauty she could have trampled me.”
“You talked to Buffy?”
“Talked, read her karma, looked into her mind’s eye…what’s the diff?” Lorne asked with a wave of his hand. “Point is, that girl’s not effected by the spell. Whatever feelings she’s got are the real deal. And they’re something.” Angel gaped at the green demon before him. “I’m not saying they’re chock full of lust and zing and love for you, stud, there’s plenty of confusion and anger and just a tinge of fear in there for spice… Watching you two for the next little while is going to be interesting.”
For his part, Angel was completely confused. “Buffy said we’re not involved any more.”
“You’re not. Take it from me, I’ve been here long enough to know. We’ve talked about the Slayer before, albeit briefly. She’s the One, the Big “L,” the woman who changed it all for you.”
“But she’s having feelings? For me?”
“Felt like it to me. And they’re old, deep-rooted feelings, lover boy.”
Angel's eyes trained on his friend. “Why are you telling me this?”
Lorne shrugged. “Sounds like we got us a caper on our hands. If I can help you two clear the air before the big badness happens I figure we’re all better off. Personally, I like it better when your head’s cluttered with killing than with blondes.”
Angel squirmed in his seat for a moment. “What about Cordelia?”
“Ahh…” Lorne sighed. “What about her?”
“Connor…he said…well, alluded to…that she and I were…that we might have been…”
Lorne watched him for a moment, eyes steady. "That’s what’s really unnerving you, isn’t it?”
Angel didn’t answer him.
“Well…isn’t this a twist I didn’t see coming? You know that three years ago the thought of you and Cordelia sends off vibes that makes my stomach churn? Jeez, bucko. She was still an ubercutie back then, I’ve seen the pictures.”
“She’s my friend,” Angel told him quietly. “That’s it.”
Lorne’s eyes narrowed. “Well, that’s the truth. You’ve got these nice stitch-me-on-a-pillow sentiments about Cordy and friendship, but not much else. Besides the contempt and the occasional desire to tape her mouth shut, but hey, who hasn’t wanted to do that a time or two?”
“So it’s true. Cordelia and I…we were together, in love?”
“Woah, woah. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. I’ll be straight with you. Yeah, for a while I, well, some of us, thought that things between you and Cordy might be heating up.”
“Who’s ‘us?’”
“Fred got it too, if you must know. Thought you two had warrior-fate. That you were drawn to each other because you’re both brave, both fighters.”
“Cordelia?” Angel asked speculatively.
“Oh yeah…in our day Ms. Chase is quite the little power ranger. You’re training her, teaching her how to fight, use weapons, all that cloak and dagger, creature of the night stuff. She’s getting pretty good, too, if you want the truth. Anyway, I started sensing a few things here and there, some sparks I took to be more than friendship.”
Something in the demon’s tone had Angel questioning. “But you were wrong?”
Lorne shrugged. “More and more recently it’s appeared to be so. I mean, you love her, yeah. She’s your best friend, your oldest friend these days.”
“Did she have these feelings? Did she think of me as…”
“Her heart’s desire?” Lorne clucked his tongue. “Hard to say. Couple times I got something that felt like it off of her but with the Groosalog around the love was flying everywhere.”
“The Groosalog?”
“Cordy’s yumminess in swash-buckling pants. Came here looking for her after we fled Pylea last year…which you also don’t remember. Just trust me on this. He was Cordy’s honey, but he got the impression that she didn’t care for him like he wanted her to and it was splitsville for that couple. He thought she was in love with you,” he said pointedly.
Angel shook his head in disbelief. “So she might have.” Lorne might as well have been telling him that Angel had found himself in love with Wesley for all the sense this was making.
Lorne nodded with a jerk of one shoulder. “She might have. Given more time you kids might have figured it out but just when it was starting to heat up you both disappeared. You to the bottom of the ocean, thanks to your, and focus on the sarcasm here, ever-devoted son, and her ascending to the heavens as a higher being.”
“There can’t have been anything between me and Cordelia,” Angel insisted. “Ever.”
“Well, before you could sort it all out memory spells went kablooey and your ex showed up. So here we are. Between you and me? I could have been wrong about you and Cordelia. It’s happened.” He paused, looked around. “Once or twice.”
“You’re wrong. You have to be.”
“Maybe,” Lorne considered, sitting back and crossing his legs. “But ask yourself this…why do I have to be wrong? You two were friends first, that’s how relationships start. You’ve been through tough times, you’ve faced death and hardship and beaten them back. She’s the only one who’s always been by your side, since you came to LA. Sometimes natural feelings develop.”
Angel’s eyes darkened. “A minute ago you were telling me that what I feel for Buffy might not be due entirely to the spell, and now you’re campaigning for Cordy and me to be couple of the year? Which is it?”
Lorne raised an eyebrow and held up both hands in self-defense. “I’m just telling you what I see, giving you some things to consider. We won’t know the truth of it until the spell’s done.”
He stood now, stretching. “Think I’ll go locate Wesley, find out how long he’s going to be so we can get this over and done with. I’d like to not have to explain to Gunn yet again that while I may in fact be green, and yes, a demon, greeting me with “Hey Kermie” every time I see him isn’t called for.”
“You said Buffy’s got feelings, too,” Angel said, stopping Lorne in his retreat.
The demon turned to face him. “Yeah…she does.”
“What…kind of feelings?”
“Not unlike what I’m getting off you, big guy,” he said, smiling gently. “Just more confused, more scared. It’s been a long time for her, longer than it’s been for you. This stuff’s all opening up in her again, from a place she’s kept locked away, guarded.”
Angel took in his words and thought about them before looking up at the demon, helpless. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what’s real.”
Lorne nodded wisely. “We’ll find out tonight.”
*~*~*
Wesley entered the Hyperion to find the lobby empty, save for the copious amounts of pizza boxes strewn over the counter.
“Hello?” he called, stacking a few of the empty boxes and placing them on the trash can. Pizza sauce on the research… He sighed and grabbed a napkin, plucking a piece of pepperoni off a three hundred year old text.
“It’s about damn time!” came the angry voice of Cordelia Chase from behind him. “Where the hell have you been?”
He turned toward her with a raised eyebrow that matched her own. “I was detained.”
“By something wearing expensive perfume,” she noted, sniffing his shirt collar. “What’s her name?”
He rolled his eyes. “Try to have some tact, could you?”
“Whatever,” she sighed, exasperated. “We’re so ready to do this spell. Did you get the stuff? The Lygon?"
Wesley reached into his shirt pocket and produced a small box triumphantly. “I did.”
“Fantastic."
“Hey Wes,” Gunn called, entering from the second floor and taking the stairs quickly, followed by Fred, Xander and Anya. “When did you get back?”
“Just now, obtaining the Lygon took a bit longer than I’d anticipated.”
Gunn shook his head. “Whatever. Let’s just do this thing. I’ll feel a lot better when I know what the hell’s going on around here.”
“It’s been a crazy day,” Fred agreed, bobbing her head. “We’ve got no memories and two Slayers in the house.”
“Right…Faith. Where is our paroled Slayer, then?” Wesley asked somewhat bitterly.
“Upstairs, somewhere,” Xander told him. “I guess we should get the others--”
Something behind them caught his gaze and Wesley turned quizzically.
Giles and a red-headed woman stood on the short staircase outside the main doors. “Hello, all.”
“Giles!” Xander cried happily. “Man…get a cell phone, would you? We’ve been going nuts not knowing where you were.”
Giles gave him a chagrined smile and headed down the stairs, the woman following him. “Yes…sorry. We had to make our whereabouts someone unknown for the last little while. It seems someone at the Council knows that we’re on to them.”
“What?” Xander asked.
“The Slayers, the potential Slayers, that is, that are being exterminated by the Harbingers. Someone at the Council is behind it, or at least involved.”
“A couple someones, actually,” the woman put in.
Giles glanced over at her. “Oh, forgive me. Everyone, this is Regina Cross. We worked together at the Council. She’s the one who found the connection between the Council and the deaths in the Novitiate. Regina, this is, Xander and Anya, friends of mine from Sunnydale. And I believe you know Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.”
“’hallo,” she said cheerfully. “It’s very nice to meet all of you…”
“I’m Gunn,” Charles offered. “This is Fred. We work here, apparently.”
“Apparently?” Regina asked.
“We’re having a slight memory spell problem, which we were about to correct,” Wesley informed them.
“Angel, Cordelia and Gunn all lost their memories back to three years ago…spell went wonky,” Anya offered as explanation.
Giles looked sheepishly at Regina. “This type of thing tends to happen quite a bit with my American friends.”
“Keeps things interesting,” she said confidingly and Gunn grinned, liking her already.
“Buffy…she’s here?” Giles asked then, turning to Xander and Anya.
Xander nodded. “Yup, gang’s all here, upstairs somewhere. We got Faith out.”
“Barely,” Anya snorted. “The Bringers were right behind us. We didn’t make the quietest escape.”
“But everyone’s all right?” Giles asked, concerned.
“Safe and sound,” Fred assured him. “You were Buffy’s Watcher, right?”
“Oh…yes. I’m Rupert Giles, and yes, I was her Watcher for many years. Along, of course, with Wesley.”
“They were interesting times,” Wesley said smoothly. “Now, if I may suggest, we should get underway with the memory spell at once. Gunn, Fred, if you wouldn’t mind gathering the rest of the necessary group…”
“I should like to speak with Buffy, unless she’s needed for this activity,” Giles requested.
“Not at all--”
“Buffy! Yo! Front and center!” Gunn shouted, causing each one of them to jump.
“And Angel keeps talking about getting an intercom system,” Fred said nervously, holding her ringing ear with care.
Buffy appeared on the second floor landing with Dawn and Willow in tow, Faith just slightly behind them. “What is all the—Giles!” she cried and flew down the stairs into her Watcher’s arms. He hugged her, then Dawn and Willow respectively.
“I was so worried,” Buffy chastised. "Are you okay?”
He smiled and nodded. “I’m fine, thank you. Leaving England was a bit more difficult than we’d imagined.”
She pulled back and glanced around. “We?”
“Buffy, may I introduce you to Regina Cross. She’s here to help us.”
Buffy stuck out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“And quite the honor to meet you,” Regina told her, pumping her hand easily. “Mr. Giles spoke of nothing but of you and your exploits the entire way here.”
Buffy arched an eyebrow. “Just my good deeds, I’m sure,” she said wryly.
Regina grinned. “Naturally.”
Faith stepped around them uncomfortably when Giles’ eyes found her. “Faith,” he nodded. “I’m glad to see that you’re all right.”
She nodded back nervously. “Thanks…you too.”
The side door opened then and Angel stepped inside, his eyes lighting on Buffy’s for a moment before moving to Giles.’ When Lorne walked in from the kitchen the lobby was practically full.
“We’ve got quite the crowd, I see,” Giles observed. “Perhaps there’s room for one or two more here?”
Angel nodded. “Of course. I’ll see to your rooms.”
“And then the spell,” Cordelia grumbled.
Angel looked over at her, studying the brunette for a brief moment before his eyes moved to Buffy’s and held them. “Absolutely.”
